Simple Pleasures
by Thorne Lockehart
Summary: Sometimes the simplest things can take you back to childhood and even the simplest of first experiences can change your view on things. Flack/OC friendship and flirtation. Companion piece to 'Chasing Pavements.'


_**A/N: This little plot bunny wouldn't leave my muse alone! I thought of it while I was in the shower (aka, the place of many thinks) and realized I hadn't seen snow in a good long time. Then I, for some reason, remembered when I lived in Wilmington and volunteered at a breeding farm in Castle Hayne and got excited when I saw snow fall. Well, Wilmington is a coastal city, so snow doesn't fall there often. And if it does, it's just a light dusting, nothing big. So I thought to myself: How would someone who's lived coastal their entire life react when coming into contact with actual snow for the first time? Just a fluffy little one-shot based on 2x12 "The City of Dolls"**_

_**Disclaimer: I own no one of CSI: NY. I, however, own Isabella Pacino.**_

_**Summary: Sometimes the simplest things can take you back to childhood and even the simplest of first experiences can change your view on things. Flack/OC friendship and flirtation.**_

_So come here and never leave this place_

_Perfection of your face slows me down, slows me down_

_So fall down, I need you to trust me_

_Go easy, don't rush me, help me out, why don't you help me out?_

Maroon 5 — Never Gonna Leave This Bed

Don Flack had never really gotten to know the new girl until that fateful afternoon he had decided to strike up a conversation with her. The new CSI Isabella Pacino reminded him of a little dark-haired pixie, like Alice Cullen in _Twilight_, only human. His sister Sam was obsessed with the books and had told him all about the characters. Isabella watched the yellow cabs whiz by with watchful blue eyes. She looked even smaller than before, her tiny body tucked away in a puffy black coat, small hands shoved in a pair of gloves, white ski cap perched on her dark hair, braided into pigtails. The cold wind made her cheeks turn pink, a vivid stain on her otherwise pale face.

"You know, you can't really claim New York residency unless you've been mugged, been in a fistfight, or ride the subway," he commented. She jumped and whirled around. Her face darkened when she realized it was him and pushed up her black-framed glasses in embarrassment. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

She eyed him warily. "How can you be warm if you're not even wearing big stuff?" she asked, tilting her head. She took in his black button down coat and gloves. "And you didn't scare me. You startled me, that's all."

"Lifetime of New York winters, Pacino," he responded. "Not a coastal farm girl like yourself."

She stuck her pink tongue out at him and suddenly she stopped flat. "The hell was that?"

Then Don felt a drop of wetness on his nose and looked up. "Oh, it's snow," he replied.

He had never seen anyone look more excited until then. Her blue eyes immediately brightened and a grin broke out on her pretty face. "Really? Snow?" she said giddily. He raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah. What's a-matter? You've never seen snow before?" he asked. She shook her head and held out her gloved hands to look at them, a look of pure wonderment on her delicate features.

"Well, I've _seen _it, but I've never been out in it before. Back home, there would be dustings of it, but the snow wouldn't really stick. It's mostly frost," she replied, her voice breathless. "This is a real snowfall, though. These big, fat snowflakes are gonna stick on the ground and I get to see it!"

Don thought he had seen it all in his line of work, from crooked cops to drag queens. He had never seen a look of such childlike awe on any adult in his life and her smile was infectious. It was the kind he had seen on little girls, the ones with dimples and the nose-wrinkling. Her slightly crooked teeth were showcased and he saw a light dusting of freckles on her pale skin as her head was bowed. He was surprised that someone had never really had the full experience of snow. "You mean you've never been out in the snow before?" he said.

"Never, ever," she replied. She took off her gloves to catch the snowflakes, her expression flickering into something wistful. That was something Don had caught on to when he met her for the first time; she had a very open, expressive face. "You know, a snowflake's life is kinda sad, if you think about it. They're so incredibly unique and there will never be another one like it and all it takes is one degree warmer to kill it. It makes me think of humanity. There's only one of you and one of me. There's never going to be another Don Flack or another Isabella Pacino. They can be like us and have our names, but they would never truly be us."

"I never really thought about it like that before," he commented. Her gaze lifted from her hands to meet his and she grinned with glee.

"Then I taught you something," she responded. He glanced over his shoulder to see if he could see any part of Central Park and gestured to her.

"Walk with me. If you're this excited to see it fall, then you've gotta see this," he told her. "You need to see Central Park with the snow."

Isabella followed him, sliding her gloves back on. "I know it seems silly to get all out of sorts about the weather, but it's just so...fascinating," she said. "I've seen life begin and end, but Mother Nature is always something that never ceases to amaze. There is so much people don't know about the world."

Mac was right about her, Don realized. She really did have a scholar's mind, one that was excellent for learning. For someone so young and with such a serious job, it was easy to forget the little things.

"Well, I suppose some people get excited about the beach," he remarked. She bobbed her head in agreement.

"When I had time, I liked to go out on the docks and watch the waves and listen to the kids. They would squeal and laugh and they would point at the ocean," she replied. "There weren't any lighthouses and there was nothing really special about Wrightsville Beach until you go at night and listen to the waves."

He looked down at her to see her duck her head shyly. "Do you miss it?" he asked. Don took a lot of things for granted and he hadn't noticed until now. This was a person who had moved away from everything she knew just so she could have a job. "Wilmington, I mean."

"Sometimes. I mean, the little town outside of it where I lived...that's what I really miss. Everybody knew your mom and them and liked to help out on the farm. Here, I'm just a faceless nobody with a fascination for snow," Isabella replied with a smile. "So, what's so special to you about a snowy Central Park?"

"This," he responded, nodding to a group of kids throwing snowballs at each other. A larger boy picked up a small girl in a pink coat and tossed her unceremoniously in to a snow pile. "Even though some of them have been near this their whole lives, they still play in it like it's the first time they've seen it." He hadn't realized it until then.

"That's neat," she remarked. "We all get so caught up in our day to day lives that we forget to sit back and enjoy the things right in front of us."

She was right, of course. Isabella tilted her head and looked over at him.

"Want to get some coffee? I found a little hole in the wall by my apartment building that brews their own and it tastes amazing," she offered. Don looked over her shoulder to see a kid balling up snow in his hand, ready to throw it at the snow virgin. The powdery substance hit her coat with a soft 'pop.' "Is this some sort of icy ritual?" She turned around to see the kid, the same one who had dropped the little girl in the snowbank.

"Now you've been hit with a snowball," he pointed out lightly. Instead of irritation, she simply grinned. He glanced around for a clear snowbank and found one by a tree. "Now, you need to be dropped in a snowbank." She tilted her head in confusion and he swung her up into his arms. Isabella was feather-light in his arms and she giggled hysterically as he dropped her into the bank.

"It's cold!" she squealed as she looked up at him. He held out his hand and she grasped it, scrabbling to her feet. She dusted the snow off her legs.

"It's cold, that's why it falls in winter," he joked. Her blue eyes twinkled with mirth as she picked up a handful of snow and dumped it unceremoniously on his head. "That's the worst snowball I've ever seen in my life."

"And to think I was gonna buy you coffee from Brewster's!" she teased.

"Looks like I'll have to go to Starbucks, then!" he replied.

The new girl was definitely full of surprises, but Don couldn't help but think there was something there. He had never met anyone so full of life and he knew if he stuck around her that he would be in for one hell of a ride.


End file.
